Seventeen Going on Eighteen
by Lady Mage
Summary: After nearly two years of marriage with Wickham, Lydia gradually accepts the idea that her husband is most disagreeable. Her crisis of sixteen is over. Can a childhood friend help her understand the consquences of her silliness and help her remedy them?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey all, this is a story that hit me one night when I was thinking about Lydia and wanting to write more about her. She is a good charachter to write I think- lots of opportunity for charachter development there. :) I hope you like this, and please review!**

**Seventeen Going On Eighteen**

It is such a terrible thing when one's husband is so disagreeable. You seem shocked that I would express such sentiments toward my previously loved Wickham, but it is true I confess- he is _most_ disagreeable. We have been married almost two years I suppose, and at first I dare say it was wonderful- being married before my sisters, and being able to call on the officer's wives like a veritable matron!

But married life soon set in. George wanted this- George wanted that. He began dining out more and more, and often when he came home he would smell suspiciously of liquor. Not that I have anything against liquor, mind you, but to be honest, I couldn't help being offended that he was going out drinking when he had such a lovely wife waiting at home for him.

As soon as I realized that George was neglecting me, I set out to make him realize what an important thing he had in his wife. Namely, I flirted with all the other young men of the regiment. I dare say Papa would have shook his head saying, "I thought she was the silliest girl in England… but it appears I was wrong" I might look up from this statement eager to hear his praise which was so infrequent, only to be disappointed with a "Not only is Lydia the silliest girl in England, but she is also the silliest girl in the entire world!"

Naturally, I have my pride and would not have let a statement stand as was, but really, looking back I do admit that I was very silly during the first six or so months, perhaps even the first year of my marriage to George Wickham.

Now, you may ask, dear reader, how I came to realize that I was very silly indeed? You will be shocked to know that it was none of my dear sisters or my acquaintances who professed themselves my friends. Indeed, it was someone quite different. I shall now relate to you a story which I think may surprise you very much indeed…

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**A/N: If you liked this, please let me know in a review, and check out my previously written "Sweet Sixteen" which was written about Lydia at sixteen. Updates should come soon to this story- it is at the forefront of what I plan on writing within the next while. Again, please tell me what you think in a REVIEW!!!**

**Lady Mage**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there again, reader! Glad you decided to navigate your way back to this story. I'm sorry for the delay in posting this- it's been written for more than a week but I had a hard time finding a beta. Saphiranna took a look at it yesterday (THANK YOU!) and Jen from the bennet girls site will be looking at the subsequent chapters as well. So that should no longer be a problem. This chapter I am going to introduce several new charachters, so enjoy!**

**Seventeen Going on Eighteen, Chapter Two**

When I was quite young, perhaps ten or eleven (I cannot remember my exact age), there was a wealthy family living at Netherfield Park. They had leased the house for the summer, being eager to get away from the constant business of London. The man and his wife were normal I suppose for London elites, but at the time I supposed them very arrogant. They had a two sons and a daughter who was ten years the senior of her two brothers and happily married to a Mr. Fairhill. The two brothers' names were Edmund and Richard Graham. Edmund was eighteen, and Richard about thirteen at the time.

Naturally, the Grahams of Netherfield and us Bennets of Longbourne met quite often because of the similar ages. Over the summer, Richard and I became fast friends. We went fishing together, and ran between our two houses almost every day.

Mr. and Mrs. Graham, as you may well imagine, were not very pleased with the acquaintance. In fact they nearly forbid dear Richard from coming to see me. But naturally, youth cannot be repressed and must therefore rebel. So was the case with Richard Graham and I.

His quieter nature met perfectly with my loud and boisterous one, and for a while things went wonderfully. We met every day as I have mentioned earlier and at times would sit on the riverbank.

"Lydia," he would say to me, "How agreeable it would be to sit here forever- just you and me by the river."

"Nonsense," I would reply. "What an utterly stupid suggestion! Why, we should be old and grey as Sir William Lucas, and have his rheumatism too!" Being so young, I thought anyone older than my sister Jane at eighteen to be frightfully ancient and liable to drop dead at any moment. The way Mama carried on about Papa and her nerves certainly reinforced the idea.

Richard would reply that Sir William Lucas (or whoever I had accused of being old) was not so very old after all, and then we would relapse back into peaceful serenity.

Sadly, things were not meant to last, and soon summer was over and Richard had to return to school. After the first few letters Richard sent me, our correspondence soon lapsed. I am afraid to say that I have never been a very good letter writer.

When I was thirteen, Jane returned from London where a young man had been so struck by her that he had written several love poems to her. I happened a glimpse at them- no, do not look at me like that- Jane never should have left her writing table unlocked! She should have known better! The first one began somewhat like this:

_O, my fair Athena_

_How heaven doth bless thy fair looks_

_Thy lips are radiant beauty_

_Thy kisses are so sweet and divine_

_Thy eyes are lovely with beauty_

_I want it all to be mine._

Shocking, isn't it? And the thing is, Jane said she never encouraged him in any way, let alone gave kisses to him. I am surprised that Jane never burned the poems. I suppose she still has them somewhere about for she did not want to offend the poor young man by ridding herself of such disgusting poetry. Honestly, the words didn't even rhyme!

Nevertheless, Jane's encounter with her young man left me feeling eager to have a suitor who would write decent poetry to me, or better yet, marry me instead. I had always been in competition with my sisters, being the youngest, and somehow I saw this as only a game. I knew I would never get a man if I was not as beautiful as Jane. I knew I never was going to rival her, but had seen several of the girls in the village flirting outrageously, so I decided to copy them and visit my Aunt Phillips' house more and more.

Looking back, I see myself slowly degrading into a pattern where seriousness was completely lost and the intelligence and good sense that Papa had tried to instill in me at an early age made way for heady flirtation and stupidity. I forgot it was a game and I soon didn't remember that I had ever behaved any differently. And yet, even now, I can still feel the thrill of it all.

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**A/N: I hope you liked it! I love writing Lydia... she's such a wonderful charachter that unfortunately gets ignored. Please review... you know... that little purple button:)**

**Updates should be coming a lot faster now that I have a beta. Thanks to all those who reviewed last time!**

**Lady Mage**


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